


like you mean it

by hotfunnylesbian



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Lesbian AU, Light Angst, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Smut, ex hacker mik and nali, way less dark than these tags make it sound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:55:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29926857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotfunnylesbian/pseuds/hotfunnylesbian
Summary: Mik needs an income, and Denali might be able to get her a waitress job at her own place of work -- a strip club.Denali’s own audition left her with a bad taste in her mouth, and a tempting crush she would rather ignore.Rosé practically runs the club, but even seasoned professionals get distracted sometimes.
Relationships: Denali Foxx/Gottmik/Rosé, Denali Foxx/Rosé, Gigi Goode/Crystal Methyd
Comments: 24
Kudos: 87





	1. Get a Job Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> hi friends, it's my first fic in years! i don't have much to say except one SUPER important note:  
> mik is a woman in this story in the same way that all the other queens are women in this story: purely fictionally! when i genderbend denali and rosé (and every other queen) as women in this universe, i'm not suggesting they're women in real life, i’m just trying to channel their drag personas into characters that stand separate from the experiences they live as actual people. so that’s the approach I took to mik’s character too! however it’s important to me that i don’t diminish kade as a trans man, just translate mik’s drag persona into what her character would be like as a girl. also, i will never write smut/any type of body sexualization about girl mik because i would feel weird doing that <3  
> so yeah, all with love, and absolutely tell me if you have a perspective that i haven’t considered. last thing i’ll say is that i’m fairly sure my writing improves after the first chapter hahaha. hope you enjoy!

“Mik, are you hearing me?”

Mik groaned, shifting her face in the pillow.

“Mik? Wake up, you whore.” Denali berated her half-jokingly. “Constantly exceeding my expectations for just how many people you can fuck in our apartment.” 

Other than that, what was there to say? Mik hadn’t had a sober night in a week, and an alarming number of those nights were accompanied by half-naked strangers she had brought home from bars. Men, women, anyone who had a cute face and something half-interesting to say. Mik seemed to get whoever she wanted.

Denali looked down at her small roommate sprawled on the couch. An oversized red coat she’d never seen before was draped over the bare upper half of Mik’s body, and her fishnetted legs stuck out at odd angles from underneath. She looked a little bit angelic when she slept, despite the smudged black eyeliner and devilish red pout. Yawning, she pried an arm out from the coat to fish for her phone. 

“What time is it? Gorge…”

“One thirty-five P.M.,” Denali said with a raised eyebrow. “You look ridiculous, you know.” 

Mik wiped a palm across her forehead, curling her features into a frown. “I look stunning and you know it. What time did you get home last night?”

“After three.” There was a small pause. “Which sexpot is gonna come knocking on our door for this coat today?”

Mik grinned sleepily. “No one, it’s mine. Bought it last night before I got shitfaced.”

“Good for you diva, but I don’t know what you want me to tell you when you’re spending all our money on boys and bubbles every night. I can’t be the only one working around here.”

She was met with a smirk and a pair of surprisingly alert, open eyes. “Haha, I’m Denali and I think I’m sooo much better than Mik because I dance on boys for money --”

The impression was so wildly inaccurate that they burst into laughter. “Girl, don’t even try it, you do the same shit for free!” Denali sparred, pushing a giggling Mik back on the couch. Living with the 23-year old sometimes made their five-year age difference feel much larger.

Mik sighed, running her hands through her hair. “You’re right, you bitch. What can I say? I’m jealous you get paid for my only talent.”

Denali raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Well, first of all, that’s not your only talent. We both know you could be making six figures off some tech job if you actually cared. You always say you couldn’t when it was just that you didn’t want to.” Mik rolled her eyes as far back as they could go, but Denali pressed on. “And second of all, you think you could do my job? Try it out and get back to me. I haven’t seen you put your mind to something in ages.”

Mik sat up to think. Sitting there in nothing but fishnets and dark makeup, hugging a crumpled red coat to her chest, she had to admit Denali had a point. She found herself wondering why she hadn’t considered working at the club by now. It might have been Denali’s cutthroat businesswoman approach to her job that scared Mik off, since Mik saw sex as play and money as a faraway concept.

She tried to meet Denali with a serious face. “I wouldn’t be a good stripper, I’m too forward.”

“By ‘forward’ you mean horny?”

“I’m done with you.”

“Shut up, you know it’s true.” Denali relaxed into the couch next to her friend and looked around. Stacks of papers, tangled electrical cords, and a few misplaced items of clothing gave their apartment an undeniable “strugglebus” feel, but the clutter was eased by the full-wall window opposite the couch that boasted a beautiful view of the Chicago skyline. Midday light poured onto the sofa, and Denali closed her eyes.

“I don’t know though, I might be a killer waitress or something.”

Denali’s eyes flew back open. “You could be a cocktail waitress.” She frowned. “I can’t just get you a job, though, I haven’t been working long enough.”

“Do you work tonight? You could take me with you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what good that would do. And ugh, are you sure you want to see me dance?”

“Bitch, you know I don’t care, you’re such a prude around me. I just want to see you do what you do, and maybe there’s something there that would interest me, who knows.”

Denali smiled, but she had mixed feelings. Mik could be too enchanting for her own good sometimes, and she didn’t want to feed her to the sharks by situating her among a bunch of dirty men. Then again, she usually underplayed how bothered she actually was that Mik refused to get a job. This might be her only opportunity to make Mik work for their financial stability, and she was about to shut it down because she was ashamed of her job? _Shut up and see where this goes,_ she chastised herself.

“If you’re sure, then yeah, you can come along tonight. I have a short shift but it’s pretty late.” She pushed herself off the couch and walked to the kitchen to distract her buzzing mind. In their tiny studio, it was only a few steps to get there. “I’m dancing from ten to midnight, and then I’ll probably be in the booths til about two, but who knows.”

Mik sprung up to follow her, wincing immediately when her head throbbed from the movement. “Oooh, the booths, I never hear about those from you!”

“That’s because they’re not as interesting to me as they would be to you, and you know it. Men pay my bills, but they don’t get me off.” Denali glanced over at her best friend, who was struggling to reach her phone charger on the coffee table.

Mik met her eyes and teased, “Yeah, and who does get you off? You haven’t gotten pussy in a _moment_ , gorge.”

“What is with you this morning? You’re usually less of a pain in the ass. Anyway, I don’t think you should stick around when I hit the booths. There’s fewer girls in the club by that point and I don’t want anything to happen when I can’t keep an eye on you.”

“What, you don’t trust me to keep myself together for one night?”

“Well no, I don’t, but I was talking about the guys. They can get pretty gross.”

“It’s whatever, I have a great weird-guy radar. Do I have your word that I can come along tonight?”

Looking at the glint in Mik’s eyes, eyebrows raised as she waited for an answer, Denali couldn’t turn her down. “You have my word, babe.”

When nighttime rolled around, Denali had started to get nervous again. Women came to gentlemen’s clubs often enough for Mik not to stick out like a sore thumb, but she was still worried that her friend would get caught up in some risky business if left unattended. And if she actually wanted this to end in a job offer? She might have to talk to Rosé, who she had avoided at all costs in her few months as an exotic dancer. 

Putting her worries aside, she grabbed the last of her things, shoving a pair of stoned black heels in a duffel bag before stopping in front of the mirror to touch up.

“Okay, I’m leaving in five. Did you want to get a ride with me now or pop in later? Also, have you seen my red lipstick anywhere?” She turned to the mirror and poked at a flyaway in her hair, smoothing it into the rest of her jet black waves, and noticed the little scarlet bottle on the counter in front of her. “Oh! Nevermind. Mik, where are you?”

“Coming! One sec --” Mik turned the corner and pulled an exaggerated face of shock when she saw Denali. “Damn, bitch, look at the snatchery going on here! I can’t believe I never get to see you in your stripper getup!”

Normally, Denali didn’t show much skin. When Mik first met her, in her comp-sci 9-to-5 era, it seemed like the only items of clothing she owned were a gray hoodie and sweats. It was only when she slipped into her dance outfits -- little dresses that shimmered or sparkled or clung to her skin -- that her toned body and soft curves stood out. Tonight, she had settled on a black mesh dress.

Denali smiled. “Thanks babe, this is the look tonight, heels go on when we get to the club. Are you wearing that?” she said, gesturing at Mik’s high boots, fishnets, and the red jacket from last night. She had redone her makeup, and her black hair was cut into a choppy tousled mullet that suited her perfectly.

“You bet your ass I am, don’t you try to tell me I can’t!”

“I just don’t want you sticking out as a target.”

“You just don’t want me looking hotter than you,” Mik joked, “but that’s not possible, anyway. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, the Uber should be here any second.” The two girls rushed down the flight of stairs, giggling for the first time since that morning.

When they arrived at the club, Denali was out of the car before Mik even touched her seatbelt. In a flash, she was at the other door, extending a hand to Mik to guide her out. “Shall we? You can come in through the back with me.” 

“You lead and I’ll follow!”

The girls stepped onto the curb in the crisp night air. Denali pulled on a thick coat and hurried in the direction of the back entrance. Mik trailed behind her, already stumbling in her stiletto boots. When they made it to the little raised door facing the parking lot, Denali’s knock was answered by a familiar face.

“Hey babe. Oh, hey Mik, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Hey Gigi,” they said in accidental unison, looking up at the beaming girl. She wore a strappy blue slip with lace-up boots, and her auburn hair was pulled back into a bouncy ponytail. Gigi always looked perfect.

The roommates took turns stepping up into the dressing room, and Mik gawked at the pretty people around her. She knew some of them already (Gigi, Crystal, and Jaida were Denali’s closest friends on the job, so naturally the five of them had gotten wasted at the apartment a few times over) but others were completely new faces, like the tall brunette model painting her face meticulously in the corner. The paper tag taped to her station announced her name was Naomi.

Denali’s voice snapped her back to the present. “Okay so Gigi, here’s the real tea: Mik is going to drive the two of us into the ground if she doesn’t get a job soon, and I said she could trail me for a night to see if she wanted to apply here.”

Gigi’s face lit up. “Oh my god, work! Praying you can get past Rosé… but ugh, that is so CUTE!”

“Can you imagine us four working together? We would dominate.” Crystal chimed in, excitedly entering the conversation.

They spent a few minutes catching each other up on their lives until Denali pointed out the time. She and Gigi were on a pole shift together, and Mik would have to come with them. After Mik said a quick goodbye to Crystal, the three girls squeezed single-file through the dressing room door to the main lobby, replacing the smell of perfume and makeup with that of alcohol and sweat. 

Now bathed in blue and pink flashing lights, Denali turned back to Mik to brief her before they split off. “Okay angel, you’ll probably want to sit at the bar to your left. Don’t get wasted and don’t indulge any of the guys. And make sure they know you’re not here alone, okay?”

“Okay gorge, I’ll be fine. I’ll just be here by myself,” she sighed dramatically, “watching you dance all sexalicious, wishing I could have in on some of the action.”

“Sexalicious! You are so stupid.” Denali laughed, punching her friend in the arm. Pointless flirtation was their love language. “Stay safe, love you, I’ll check in with you on my next break.”

Denali followed Gigi to the poles while Mik settled in at the bar. She flagged down the bartender, a pretty woman with purple hair.

“Can I get a Corona and a shot of bourbon? Thank you,” she said, pursing her lips theatrically -- there were some LA mannerisms she just couldn’t let go of. Accepting the two glasses, she downed the shot and followed it with a swig of beer. If Denali could see her from the stage, Mik knew she’d come over and knock the alcohol straight out of her hands. The thought made her smile.

She sat back and looked over to see what Denali was up to. She was a minute or two into a pole routine, and _wow,_ could she move. There was something absolutely magical about the casual way she swung and dipped around the pole, her skin glowing in the light. No wonder money was being thrown at her from all angles. Her face looked calm, even a little dangerous, especially next to Gigi, who always wore the perfect performance smile. Both dancers were incredible, but Mik was in awe of Denali. It wasn’t often that she got the opportunity to see her best friend completely in the zone. Badass.

Mik tried her best to look bored when three men took the seats to her right and loudly ordered a lineup of Jack Daniels shots. She polished off her beer and made eye contact with the middle guy, perhaps a little too boldly.

“Hey hot stuff, are you on break?” he said with a smirk.

“Don’t work here,” she replied flatly, but they had already gone back to talking noisily amongst themselves. She ignored them, choosing to watch Denali’s dance instead. It was more sultry by this point, her hands pushing her hair around as she moved across the stage in mesmerizing patterns.

Mik was jolted out of her trance by the same douchebag as before. “Why aren’t you dancing, baby? You like to watch?” His group broke into wild laughter. She smiled sweetly, crinkling her nose, and flipped him off. “Another pale lager, please,” she directed to the bartender.

“You a lesbo or something?” It was the left guy this time, much more over-the-top in his delivery, no doubt emboldened by the four shots she’d watched him take in the span of half an hour.

Making sure her voice rang loud and clear, she shot back, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak English,” and punctuated it with a cloying smile. It was a dumb trick, but it seemed to work okay against mildly intoxicated straight men, because the guys lost interest temporarily.

Twenty minutes later, Gigi was on her first break. Mik downed the last of her drink and hurried to meet her off the stage for a chat. “Babe, you’re so gorgeous!”

“Aw, thank you my love! How are you holding up?” Gigi said, slightly out of breath, a few dark red hairs slicked to her face with sweat. She still smelled amazing.

“I’ve just been sitting there completely gagged watching you two do your thing! I like, _cannot_ do that. I’m thinking I’ll go for more of a waitress moment, you know?”

“Totally love that. It works for Crystal,” Gigi noticed the bottle in her friend’s hand. “Didn’t Denali tell you not to drink, or am I making that up?”

“She just said don’t get wasted, and trust, I can pound a few back before I feel a damn thing. Do you know when she’s on break?” 

“She’ll probably keep this up for another hour or so, considering the tips aren’t slowing. Her stamina is like no other.” Gigi glanced in Denali’s direction, admiring her dancing for a moment. “I wish I could join you at the bar, but I have to touch up. We’ll catch up soon, okay?”

“Mmkay angel, go get pretty.”

When Mik sat back down to order another drink, she noticed something had changed. In place of the purple-haired bartender, there now stood a stunning woman in a short tiger print dress. She looked about 30, with a strong hourglass figure, wavy brown hair, and cool hazel eyes. Mik would have stared for much longer if the woman hadn’t immediately matched her gaze. She cleared her throat to order over the loud music. “Can I get a… peach bellini?”

“Sure thing, sweets.” She had a confident presence when she spoke. 

As she poured the wine, Mik tried to figure out how to talk to her, but was at a loss for ideas. Thankfully, she didn’t have to initiate.

“So you’ve been sitting here for an hour now, did you come here alone?” the woman asked casually, handing Mik her glass. Mik was taken aback that she noticed her presence. Had the woman been bartending the whole time?

“I’m just here for a friend, but she’s on the job. Do you know Denali?”

“Yeah, the girl on the left front stage? It’s hard to remember names with how many girls work here, but she’s one of our best dancers.”

Mik felt a little silly for how proud that made her. “That’s my girl.”

“Oh, are you two dating?”

“No! She’s my best friend. We’ve been living together for like a year now, and she’s the breadwinner, so she dragged me along to scope out a job.”

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “Scope out a job? There are official ways to go about that, my love, instead of sitting at the bar downing drinks.”

Mik giggled, incapable of taking anything seriously. “I know, I’m just having fun tonight. But this does seem like a cool place to work.”

“Most of our girls are pretty happy with it, yeah. What have you been doing for money up until now?” the woman asked politely.

“I hack people?” She said it like a question, a goofy smile on her face. She usually wouldn’t put it so bluntly, but she felt strangely comfortable with this woman, and the drinks had started to set in. 

The brunette chuckled. “That’s not something I hear often.”

“Well, I get creative with my coding and test security for different companies. It’s a nasty line of work sometimes, because you have to talk to all these egotistical 40-something men who think no one can crack their programs, and I always cracked their programs. Plus, 9 to 5 office jobs?” She inhaled and rolled her eyes back. “I simply _cannot_!”

The bartender laughed again, already collecting a few clues as to why Mik wouldn’t be best suited for the job. “Seems like it would make a pretty penny, though.”

“When you show up, sure.”

They laughed, and conversation flowed, aside from occasional interruptions when the bartender had to answer to the drink requests of hollering drunk men. She moved like a well-oiled machine, disinterestedly quipping with any men who tried to hit on her. A total professional. 

Honestly, she reminded Mik of Denali. Both women just seemed like such masters of themselves and their actions. She wondered if Denali knew this lady, since she seemed to know Denali -- but then again, there’s a lot more time for observation when you’re behind a bar than there is when you’re in the spotlight.

The next time Mik checked the stage, Denali was nowhere to be found, which meant she had a narrow window to find her before she went to the booths. “Hey, give me one second, I’m gonna check on Denali,” she said abruptly, disappearing in the direction of the dressing rooms.

By the time she got there, Denali was on her way out. She looked exhausted, but mustered a smile for Mik. “Hi baby, how are you liking this so far?”

“I’m loving it, and you are the most perfect gorgeous angel to watch! Your dance routine is beyond amazing, I won’t stop talking about it for weeks.”

“Aw, I love you. Wait, have you been drinking? You said you wouldn’t!”

“I definitely did not say that! But anyway, I’m talking to the cute bartender, so I’m like, totally safe.”

“Ugh, you. Is Jan bartending tonight? I forgot to check.”

Mik frowned. “I didn’t get her name, so I don’t know. She’s stun though.”

“I’ll talk to you more about it later, I’ve gotta go to the booths. Can you get a ride home? I don’t want you staying here this late when I can’t check up on you.”

“Sure, in a bit. Love you so much, text me if you need anything.”

“It had better be a quick ‘bit.’ See you back at the house if you stay up.”

With a wink, Mik was already making her way back to her seat. The bar had cleared out substantially, with most of the customers gravitating to the poles or the booths. She grinned drunkenly when she saw her new friend again.

“One cosmo please!”

The lady grinned, pulling her skirt down before she started to mix the drink. “Your best choice of the night. That’s my favorite.”

So now Mik knew just a little bit more about the woman. “Really? What about it?”

“Well, it’s nice tasting. It’s a beautiful color, light rosy pink. And it still gets me trashed if I want.”

Mik’s mouth fell open. “I feel like you’re so composed and professional! I can’t imagine you getting trashed.”

“To be fair, my dear, you barely know me.” She laughed cheerily at the amazed drunk girl in front of her as she shook the drink and poured it into a glass. To Mik’s surprise, she immediately poured another glass -- she had mixed two. The woman garnished the drinks with lime, winked at her, and discreetly moved the second glass beneath the counter. “I don’t usually drink on the job, but I’m breaking rules tonight. Cheers.”

Mik grinned. “Cheers.”


	2. all eyes on me

Mik woke up the earliest she had in weeks -- ten o’clock -- and with far less physical pain. Yeah, she fell asleep drunk again, but not as drunk as usual, and that was enough progress for now. Rubbing her eyes, she rolled off of the sofa and was pleased to find she had been sleeping under a blanket in actual nightclothes. _Damn, I really outdid myself. A normal night!_ Smiling, she dragged her feet to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.

It was also the first morning she could remember when she was awake before Denali, but that didn’t last long. Just as the coffee finished, she heard stirring from Denali’s room. Mik poured two mugs of coffee and tiptoed in.

“Good morning my love! I have coffee.”

Denali did a double-take. “You’re up before noon? What’s going on?” she groaned.

“I didn’t fuck a rando last night and I slept under a blanket! Be proud of me.” Mik plopped herself cross-legged on the bed, and Denali sat up.

“Okay, I’m proud of you.” Her brow creased as she remembered her night. “God, I got back so late. Crystal and I got closing duties and didn’t make it out ‘til three. When did you get home?”

“Like one-thirty, maybe?”

Denali’s eyes widened. “I told you not to stay after I couldn’t keep an eye on you! Weren’t you talking to Jan or something?”

“Who’s Jan?”

“Bartender? Purple hair?”

“Oh, I saw her, but she ended at like 11. I was talking to the woman in the tiger print dress, she said she knew you?”

Denali whipped her head up from the pillow, horrified. “Mik, that’s Rosé!”

“And? Should I know who that is?”

“Of course you should. Didn’t I mention you would have to go through her if you wanted a job? And now she’s seen you drunk? Don’t even tell me you were hitting on her --”

Mik wasn’t sure why any of this was a problem, but it was strange to hear that the woman she so casually chatted up was somehow more important than she knew. “No, no, it’s actually fine. I wasn’t hitting on her, first of all, and yeah, I had a few drinks, but she even drank with me!”

Denali sat upright with her mouth wide open. “Rosé drank with you? Are you sure we’re talking about the same woman? Big hair, amazing body, tattoos --”

“Same woman. She’s, like, super chill actually. She reminded me a lot of you.”

They sat silent for a moment, Mik absentmindedly rocking back and forth while Denali processed what she was told.

“Okay, that’s wild. I’ve only ever had a few conversations with her, and she scares the hell out of me.”

“Well, can you fill me in on who she is?”

“She basically runs the place. All the girls have to audition through her to get hired as entertainers, and it seems like she knows everything about every performer in the city. She handles firing, too. One bad move and you’re out. And I assume she does finances or something important behind the scenes, I think she only bartends to pick up girls’ missed shifts.” Her face slowly loosened with relief as she talked. “Actually, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her bartend, so I didn’t expect you to run into her last night. I was so scared that you might have made a bad impression.” 

“Never, bitch, you can count on me!” True to form, Mik did not care about what-ifs in the slightest. As long as she ended on a good note with Rosé, she saw no use in speculating on how badly it could have played out. “We lowkey had such a good time. The three of us should hang out.”

Denali let out a screech of laughter. “You are a riot! I don’t think you get how not-possible that is.”

“Why nottttt?” she whined.

“You barely know her! She’s not that type of --”

Mik pounced on her over the bedsheets and they roughhoused, laughing uncontrollably. She didn’t like seeing Denali stressed, and recently that was more often than not. But there was an emerging light at the end of the tunnel: If she could secure a job, it would take a major load off Denali’s back. They were partners after all, even if it wasn’t romantic. Mik curled up close to her friend, evidently bored of harassing her. 

Denali’s mind was still stuck on one part of Mik’s story. “You said she knew me? Did she say anything about me?”

“Mmm… actually yeah. She said you were one of the best dancers.”

Denali’s mouth curled up faintly at the corners. “Really, huh? I thought I made a bad impression on her.”

“Tea?! Now why would you think that?”

“My audition wasn’t the best…” She trailed off, clearly calculating what she wanted to say.

“Bitch, you know that’s a lie, you’re the best in the biz.”

“No, I mean, I did fine, I got the job. She just doesn’t seem like she likes me.”

Mik squinted at her doubtfully. “You’re hiding something,” she mused, “but all will be revealed when the three of us get absolutely obliterated drunk together.”

“Get out of my bed, you bitch! So stupid,” Denali teased. “Anyway, does all this mean you have a job yet? Because if not, you have some work to do, missy.”

“I see you changing the subject,” Mik said, but it was clear Denali wasn’t backing down. “No, I don’t have a job. Maybe you could talk to Rosé for me and set something up?”

She was so persistent in her teasing that Denali almost accepted defeat. “Now why would I be any better suited for that than you would?”

“Because in her words, you’re one of the best dancers, and I’m sure that gives you some influence, does it not?”

“You’re just applying as a bottle girl, not a dancer, I don’t see why my opinion would make much difference.”

“Oh, but it might!” Mik put on full dramatics for her roommate. “You could make all the difference in the world! Just think, two hot ex-hacker strip club employees living their best lives in the great Windy City --”

She had cracked Denali, who let out a small laugh. “You’re stupid. I’ll talk to her tomorrow night.”

“Awww, babe, you’re so sweet.” 

Denali shot her a glance that said she wasn’t given much of a choice. “Love you.”

Mik gave her a big kiss on the cheek and left the room, pulling the door closed gently behind her.

Denali sat up, already regretting her commitment to talk to Rosé. The last time the two had talked was at her own audition, months ago, and Denali usually tried to avoid thinking about it. But alone in her bed, she let herself replay that day from the beginning.

Denali’s audition was at 12:30, but by 12:10 she was parked outside the club with nothing to do except wait. She’d been inside the club a couple times, but that was when it was packed and pumping with hot bodies, and it was freaking her out to imagine being the only performer in there, showing off for an audience of one. 

Auditioning to be a dancer at the club was a pretty impulsive idea. She'd been out of work for six months, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she ran out of money. A friend of a friend she’d talked to about her situation joked that she should audition for the gentlemen’s club down the street. It wasn’t a half-bad option. She had worked at a strip club briefly years prior, but it was a slimy operation that she was lucky to get away from. This club, on the other hand, was somewhat small and well-managed. After a few nights of passive deliberation she ended up drunkenly dialing the place, and was told she could come in the next morning. 

So here she was, hangover and all. Denali didn’t usually get stage fright, but wearing 7-inch Pleasers in broad daylight made the whole thing feel unusual. She tilted her rearview mirror to get a better view of her face and wished she needed a touch-up, just to have something to do. But no, her makeup was perfection; a classic red lip and red-accented eyes. Her wavy black hair was straightened so that it fell down to her elbows. 

A pink sedan caught her attention as it pulled up a few spots away. She craned her neck, desperate to see if the driver was the auditioner or just another girl. When the woman got out of the car, her presence alone was enough for Denali to know she was in charge. 

First of all, there was something really scary about how good the woman looked. She was perfectly put together, impeccable makeup, muscular figure. Her wavy brown hair was swept over from the side to add volume. She wore a black t-shirt and brown leather pants that looked too tight to move in, but she walked with no problem. As Denali watched her close the car door, the woman looked up and met her eyes. To Denali’s alarm, she started walking in the direction of her car. 

Denali was on full autopilot when she rolled her window down.

“Are you Denali?” Even her voice was intimidating.

“I am.” She rummaged through her purse for her ID, found it after a moment and held it up for the woman to see. “Are you my auditioner?”

“I’m Rosé,” said Rosé, both ignoring and answering the question. “You’re early. Would you like to come inside?”

Denali nodded and forced a smile, and they started across the lot in silence. Denali made a mental note that even in 7-inch heels, she was somehow still shorter than Rosé. If Rosé’s pumps were five inches -- _what a power move_ \-- and she still stood about an inch taller than Denali, that would make her… she’d have to do the math later. When they reached the door, Rosé unlocked and opened it in one swift motion.

“After you.”

Denali tugged her dress down and stepped into the club. This was her first time seeing the dressing room, but it wouldn’t be her last if she aced this audition. She was strangely comforted by the mixed smell of perfume and setting powder floating around her.

Rosé briskly moved past her and led the way to the stage. It was silent except for the click of their heels.

“Alright, babe, this is your stage. What music do you want?”

“Do you have If U Seek Amy?”

Rosé nodded, pulling a Macbook from her bag to set up the song. In seconds, the opening notes rang out from the speakers. All Rosé said was, “Have at it.”

Denali took a breath and focused on dissolving her nerves. All her years of ice skating meant she was used to flicking on a switch when it was showtime. She’d never had to perform for just one person, though, and as it turns out, that was a completely different beast. Particularly when the person was as stunning as Rosé.

She walked in a circle to the beat of the music, grazing the pole with her hand to get a feel for what stunts she could pull off. Once she was oriented, she gripped tightly and lifted her legs, pointing her toes perfectly, and began her routine. It was obvious she had dance training; her moves were powerful but controlled. She executed turns and flips and held difficult poses like it required no effort at all. At the resolve of the song, Denali stepped away from the pole and looked to Rosé to see how she did. She knew she had shown way more than was needed to get the job.

“Okay,” Rosé smiled politely, but she looked uninterested. “Do you have something less peppy?”

Denali was taken aback for a moment. The girl on the phone said she’d only have to do one song, but moreso, she was offended that Rosé hadn’t recognized the level of difficulty in her performance. Swallowing her pride, at least for the moment, she racked her brain for a moodier song.

“What about Sexxx Dreams?”

Rosé smirked. “I can’t imagine the men in this club getting their rocks off to Gaga, but you’re welcome to try it out.”

At this point, Denali was a little annoyed. It was probably a good thing she couldn’t think of a retort in time, or she might have snapped at her auditioner and lost any chance at a job. Instead, she put her hands on her hips and shifted her weight on her heels. “I’ll try it out, then,” she said blandly.

Music flooded the room again and Denali started on her second number. She hadn’t choreographed anything for this song, but with all her dance experience, that wasn’t a problem. What was eating at her was not knowing what Rosé wanted. Denali was pulling off trick after trick, but nothing seemed to impress her superior.

Only one minute into the song, an upside-down Denali noticed Rosé get up and walk to the bar. Flustered, she dismounted the pole, unsure whether or not to keep dancing. “Am I supposed to perform for an empty chair?” she asked the head of hair behind the bar.

“With that attitude, you won’t be performing at all.” Rosé opened a bottle of Scotch and poured some into a glass. Denali stepped down from the stage, waiting for her to say something else, but the only sound in the room was what blared from the speakers. The song didn’t feel fun anymore, it was an intrusive reminder of the seconds passing as she tried to figure out if she had a job.

Rosé turned to Denali and looked at her expectantly. “Well?”

“I… did I do something wrong?”

Rosé shrugged. “There was no passion.”

So that was the bullshit excuse for her dismissal. Any confusion Denali felt was instantly replaced with a fiery drive to defend herself. “You know I’m good enough to hire -- beyond ‘good enough,’ I’m great at what I do. What do you have against me?”

“Baby, I don’t have anything against you. Even if you have talent, you lack passion, and no one likes a bored stripper.”

“I wasn’t bored!” Denali was getting dangerously close to raising her voice. Rosé just chuckled, taking slow sips on her whiskey. Her nonchalance pissed Denali off even more. Every cell in her being wanted to walk out of the audition just so she wouldn’t have to look in Rosé’s piercing eyes again, but that was just her pride talking -- if there was even the slightest chance she could still get the job, she knew she had to stay put.

“Your song isn’t done, you know.” Rosé walked back towards the dancer, but instead of stopping at her seat, she walked up to the front of the stage and leaned forward, folding her arms on the edge. “You can finish if you want.”

She turned to the pole, gritting her teeth, but was interrupted by Rosé again. “Just dance like you mean it.”

Denali bit back the impulse to retaliate and took a deep breath. She hooked a leg around the pole and ran her hand up it, taking a moment to reflect on what Rosé wanted from her. Without thinking, she circled the pole on her bent leg, tipping her head back. The music didn’t feel intrusive now that she was moving with it.

Rosé was interested this time, and Denali noticed. After dancing for a moment, she had an idea: Bracing her back against the pole, she put her legs to her sides and slid into a torturously slow middle split. When the two locked eyes, Rosé wore the slightest hint of a smile, an unspoken challenge to Denali: _Don’t look away._ She tilted her head, letting silky black hair flow over her shoulder, and spread her hands out in front of her as she deepened the split. 

Rosé watched the girl intently, never breaking eye contact. Something about Denali’s attitude had changed, and she wasn’t performing out of obligation anymore. The way she moved was hypnotizing, especially in that little pink dress, but Rosé only watched her eyes. The boredom that had been there before was gone, replaced with a passion almost dangerous in its intensity.

Denali was too focused to be scared by the intimacy of their interaction. Sweeping one leg to the side, she started to dance on the floor. Her back arched and her eyes nearly drifted shut, but she kept them open to watch Rosé watching her. She danced until the song ended. It was the first time in a long time that she truly reveled in how it felt to perform, the way her hair followed her movements, the satisfaction of hitting the beats. After the last notes, she spun on her knees, grazing her hands across her chest as she stood up in one fluid motion.

Rosé finished her drink, and a single ice cube sat bare in her glass. “That’s more like it. You can start tonight if you’re free, we have a shift open from eight to midnight.”

Denali smiled faintly, relief washing over her. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly, still processing her success. To her disappointment, Rosé had already started to pick up her papers and was heading for the door. Denali wasn’t sure why, but she had expected something more. Ignoring her unease, she grabbed her bag and jogged a few steps to catch up.

The two exchanged brief goodbyes and headed back to their cars. Denali couldn’t shake that weird feeling: It was almost embarrassment, but she had nothing to be embarrassed about if she got the job. She drove home with her hands glued to the wheel, brow furrowed tightly, until she swerved into another lane and a car horn ripped her out of her trance. That was enough thinking for the day, she decided.

In the months that followed, Denali avoided Rosé like the plague. Or at least, that’s what she would have done if Rosé was around often enough to be avoided: Though the other girls would often recall stories of her working behind the bar or helping tidy the dressing room, it seemed like whenever Denali was working, Rosé was doing paperwork in her office. But every time she did see the woman, she was reminded of growing feelings she hadn’t yet sorted out. Like the time she walked into the dressing room after a shift to find Rosé nursing a gash on Crystal’s leg, the result of a badly-aimed drink hurled in a bar fight among customers. Gigi and Naomi were right there with them, sweetly reassuring the injured girl, but it was Rosé who kept her together with a calm tone and straightforward instructions. “Lift your leg for me, there we go, you’re gonna be just fine, sweetheart. I’m gonna press down in 3, 2, 1…” 

Denali realized at some point that she wanted to believe Rosé was untouchable and cold, whether or not that was true. She wouldn’t admit it to herself, but Rosé hurt her feelings at the audition, and Denali wanted to be universally adored. Plus, she had a taste of what it felt like to connect with Rosé -- who had undeniably coaxed something special out of Denali when she made her dance -- but as she often reminded herself, it must not have felt special to Rosé, or she would have acknowledged their connection the way Denali wanted her to. So Denali resented her just enough to stay away. 

But now she’d promised Mik that she would talk to her superior. Her unresolved discomfort still bubbled up at the thought of the brunette, but that was only scratching the surface. Deep down, she hoped whatever she saw from the beginning was still there, that she had completely imagined Rosé’s coldness and that they could indeed connect like Denali thought they could. Even if these things were possible, and a real-life door to Denali’s fantasy was wide open, she was scared of what would be on the other side. Here she was, clinging to a romanticization of a woman who probably had no interest in women anyway. And if she did like women, and if she did like Denali, it could open a new door -- heartbreak.

All of this confirmed what she already knew: Hope had far too many flaws to be an option. She brought her coffee mug to her lips robotically and began to brainstorm how she’d broach Mik’s topic to Rosé tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a whole chapter that's basically just a flashback... choices anyways hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :-)


	3. new beginnings

“Come in,” Rosé said to the three sharp raps on the door, looking up from the pile of papers she was finally signing her way through. The door opened to a familiar face, but not one she would have expected. “Hello Denali. What can I do for you?”

“Hi,” Denali responded quickly, already faltering from the script she had been running over in her mind. Rosé’s discerning gaze made her stomach do flips. She told herself it was anxiety about Mik’s job security, not how good Rosé looked in her black leather jacket. “I have a bit of a random situation for you.”

Rosé nodded for her to go on, resting her chin on one manicured hand.

“I have a friend who wants to work here. I’m sure she could go through the proper procedure and all, but she was here a couple nights ago, and apparently she already talked to you. So I figured I could ask you first if you think she might be fit for a job. As a cocktail waitress, I think?” Denali thought over what she said, her eyes widening as she realized she had assumed Rosé even remembered the girl. “Wait, sorry, I didn’t describe her at all! She was in a red coat, black hair… her name’s Mik.”

“I remember her, she was a nice girl. She actually mentioned wanting a job here, so I’ve been waiting for an application to find me.”

Of course she needed an application. Denali’s cheeks flushed bright red at the thought of being seen as a cheat, someone who didn’t play fair and failed anyway. “Oh, absolutely, I didn’t mean to suggest --”

“Don’t worry, I know friends always try to help each other out.” 

_ Hah. She thinks I’d do this voluntarily. _

Rosé continued, “I’m not judging. And she was a sweetheart, she seemed like a great fit for the job. You’d have to tell her to lay off the liquor, though.”

Denali groaned, reeling at the thought of all the ways Mik might have drunkenly embarrassed herself. “If you only knew how many times I’ve tried.”

“Come on, you’re supposed to pretend that even touching a beer was a once-in-a-lifetime event for her. Convince me she’s the most responsible, straight-edge person you know,” Rosé shot back with a twinkle in her eye.

Denali was quick to match her energy. “Oh, she absolutely is. Devotes her life to her work, too, and her greatest passion just happens to be cocktail waitressing at strip clubs. You just have to see her in action.”

Rosé laughed. “Alright, you drive a hard bargain, but I’m sold.”

Denali breathed a silent sigh of relief. Rosé picked out a piece of paper from across her desk and held it out for her. “Have her fill this out anyway, and I’ll need to see ID. She can stop by at any time tomorrow.”

Denali accepted the application, scanning it quickly before looking back at Rosé. Up close for the first time since her audition, Denali found herself paying attention to the smallest details of the woman’s face. She had smooth skin and well-defined features. Her makeup was impeccable, it gave her a rosy glow that was hard to look away from. In the clean white light of the office, she noticed Rosé’s hair had more flecks of ginger than she thought. She caught her mind wandering and focused on the paper in her hand.

“You know, if I had known I could just get a friend to put in a good word for me, I might have opted for that route instead of auditioning.”

Rosé scoffed. “Baby, you will not catch me handing out jobs because of a ‘good word’ again. This is a special case.”

So their conversation must have been pretty great, if it were a special case. Denali felt strangely insecure that Mik had already accomplished what she wanted so badly.

“...But I’m glad you didn’t take any shortcuts, because if you hadn’t auditioned, I would have missed out on one of the best performances I’ve ever seen.”

This comment put Denali on high alert head to toe. She folded her arms to mask an involuntary shiver. “If my audition was so good, why did you nearly have me walk out? It didn’t seem like you had much of a stake in it.”

Rosé paused thoughtfully, running her knuckles against her jaw. “Well, I wasn’t lying when I said you looked bored. But if I could just get some passion out of you, I knew you would be perfect. I think we got there by the end, don’t you?”

Denali gritted her teeth, incensed at the idea that Rosé had coached some sort of talent into her that she didn’t build on her own. “So it was a team effort now?”

“Absolutely not. That audition was all you. But sometimes, we need a catalyst to bring out our best work.”

“And you’re suggesting you were my catalyst? Don’t you think that’s a bit presumptuous?”

This was met with just a shrug. 

Denali hated the power that Rosé had over her right now, but it drew her in like a moth to a flame. Facing the other woman in silence, she realized that once again, her pride had gotten in the way of the truth. Rosé was the catalyst, and she knew it.

It scared Denali that she had shown Rosé a side of her that was so vulnerable, so passionate and raw. Performing for a room full of men, a gender she had no attraction to, was easy. It was what drew her to exotic dance in the first place: All she had to do was put on a show, no strings attached, for people whose opinions didn’t matter to her. And somehow the first time she performed in front of a woman, especially someone she had both admiration and attraction for, she was consumed by all of the passion she had been avoiding. It didn’t help that it seemed so easy for Rosé to walk away afterwards. Denali felt like she had taken a leap of faith, but instead of landing in open arms, she was met with a bottomless pit.

“No, actually, you’re right. I think you were the catalyst.”

Denali half-expected Rosé to tease her for just “thinking” it, but she didn’t. Instead, the woman just nodded. “Well, I’m glad. You have something special.”

The air suddenly felt thick. Denali couldn’t think of anything to say, so she thanked Rosé, hesitating a moment before turning to leave.

Rosé watched the girl close the door gently, and closed her eyes as soon as she was out of the room. She had forgotten just how unique Denali was. Her dancing was exceptional, but what Rosé was unmistakably enthralled by was her spirit. Any hint of excitement, fear, passion, or anger the girl felt burned brightly behind her eyes, visible to anyone. Rosé knew her own behavior at the audition may not have been the kindest, but she challenged Denali like she would challenge anyone -- except that Denali laid her soul out as an answer, and it made Rosé realize how much she wanted to give her own passion right back. But there were too many ways that impulse could lead her wrong, starting with how unprofessional and downright manipulative it would have felt to make a play for someone who needed to know if she had a job or not. 

She couldn’t stop a crush, but she could certainly stop herself from acting on it. 

It was so easy to not be around the dancer that for the most part, Rosé had successfully blocked out these feelings for months. That tactic failed when Denali walked into her office. She instantly reclaimed the space in Rosé’s mind that was reserved for the pretty woman with the dimples and the soft skin and the toned legs and the sharp mind. Most of all, that pair of eyes that glowed hot with emotion.

Rosé took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Maybe Denali was right, and she shouldn’t have auditioned at all. At least that way, Rosé wouldn’t have to face the warm feeling in her stomach every time she caught a glimpse of Denali dancing. It brought her back to a moment of intense intimacy she would so rather ignore, that for months, she had tried to line up Denali’s shifts with her office time instead of taking her usual go-where-I’m-needed approach. 

The crush was a problem with no solution. Denali seemed to want nothing to do with her, and in all likelihood, she was straight anyway. Leaning back as far as her chair would bend, Rosé concluded she would just have to grin and bear it.

As soon as Rosé’s door had closed behind her, Denali’s mind began to race. 

Every time she’d imagined the audition since it happened, it warped slightly, gradually becoming a murky mix of reality and interpretation. But being so close to Rosé again had breathed life into her old feelings, and she could finally sort things out a touch more clearly. 

Starting with the way Rosé had spoken about her audition. It gave Denali butterflies to hear praise from the woman, but that wasn’t even the greatest part: The realization that she hadn’t imagined their connection, that Rosé had felt Denali’s passion, put her feelings in a new light. She felt like she was back in control, that she could trust her instincts. She was still troubled by how easy it was for Rosé to act politely indifferent, how hard it was to know what she was thinking, but the more Rosé opened up, the more Denali wanted to see. She was determined to crack her.

A full minute passed before she noticed she hadn’t even stepped away from the door. She hurried down the empty hall to the dressing room, a smile tugging at her lips. Rounding the corner into the dressing room, she spotted Jaida lacing Gigi into a pretty cream corset.

Denali made a beeline for her friends. “Guys, I think Mik has the job!”

“Well that was quick! When does she start?” Gigi asked, wincing as Jaida tugged at her back. 

“I didn’t even know she applied!” Jaida chimed in.

“Yeah, she came by last night and I forgot to tell you. I guess she ended up talking to Rosé by accident, and it must have gone well, because Rosé just gave me this application for her to fill out after basically saying she was hired. As a bottle girl, not a dancer.” Denali looked down at the paper in her hand and remembered Gigi’s question. “Oh, and she’ll probably start tomorrow.”

Gigi gave an eager little clap. “I can’t wait. She’s such a cutie.” 

“Look at us, keeping it in the family!” Jaida said with a smile.

“Aw, I know,” Denali said for lack of a better response, still disoriented and giddy. She looked at the clock, noting the time as a quarter to eight. She wasn’t looking forward to working a seven-hour shift, especially considering how much was on her mind. “Okay, I’m gonna change real quick before I go onstage. Do you two need anything?”

“I’m all good, gal, I’ve been here for way too long. I’m about ready to head home,” said Jaida, sliding into a puffy coat and slinging a bag over her shoulder. The girls said quick goodbyes, and Gigi followed Denali to the bench where she’d tossed her bag. 

Denali bent down, pulling out a dress and black platform stilettos. Last-minute errands had stopped her from changing in advance, but she actually liked the days where she had to change in the club. There was a comforting sense of community in their dressing room. No matter how many girls were working in a given night, there were always at least a dozen of them backstage, chatting or changing or touching up.

Gigi plopped herself on the ground next to the bench and pulled her legs in. “How are you, girl?”

Denali smiled, yanking her sweatshirt over her head before she answered. “I’m good, nothing new really. How are you doing, Geege?”

“I’m doing alright.” Gigi stopped to think. “Did I tell you Crystal’s moving in with me?”

“Oh my god, congratulations! You two are precious together,” Denali said adoringly. “But Lord help us U-Haul bitches, we move quick as hell.”

Gigi let her jaw drop. “You are such a bully! It’s been three months, that’s nearly move-in time for straight people too, right?”

Denali laughed at the younger girl’s naiveté. “I’m gonna decline to answer that, and instead, I’ll just tell you that I’m sure you and Crystal are very in love” -- her voice had turned exaggeratedly serious -- “and you make a gorgeous couple, and I wish for nothing but your success and happiness.” She couldn’t help but grin at her own teasing.

“You wretched bitch. I’m not inviting you to the housewarming party,” Gigi deadpanned, looking up at her friend.

Denali continued her teasing as she pulled on her dress, a red slip that glittered slightly when she moved. “Oh, Geege, I’ve made a terrible mistake, please accept my apology. I want nothing more in the world than to visit your lesbian domestic establishment and shower you with gifts.”

“Of course you want to come over, we have a liquor cabinet,” Gigi joked. “Kidding but not really. Anyway, we haven’t planned anything, but it’ll definitely happen soon.”

“Looking forward to it.” Denali stepped into her shoes and turned to the mirror. She fidgeted with the straps of her dress and tugged down the hem.

“That dress is so you.”

“What do you mean, it’s ‘me’?” Denali asked.

Gigi cocked her head, looking at Denali in the mirror. “I think red is your color. Also, your figure looks so killer right now.”

“Coming from you.”

“Bitch, I wish I had your ass.”

Denali turned to the side, admiring the way the dress sparkled, and let out a small sigh. It was going to be a long night. Impulsively, she hunched over her bag and discreetly shoved her dab pen in her bra. “We still have ten minutes, wanna go to the bathroom?” 

Gigi nodded, pushing herself off the floor comically for no particular audience. 

The girls stepped out of the dressing room’s warm yellow glow into the cold hallway, and Denali was struck by how mismatched the rooms of the club were. A few steps forward and they would be engulfed in the flashy purple lights of the main area. Down the hallway to the left was Rosé’s office door, a sterile shade of hospital blue left over from the original building plan. They headed to the right, past curtained private rooms and a janitor’s closet, and stopped at a small bathroom door adorned with a piece of paper that read EMPLOYEES ONLY. Gigi pushed the door open and the girls walked in.

The bathroom, smothered in dark red 70’s wallpaper, was the final piece of the club’s mismatched puzzle. Two stalls sat across from a tan stone counter with cutout sinks, and a wall-wide mirror above the counter made the small room look twice its size. Lamps lit up the mirror wall but left the stalls just dim enough to be uncomfortable. A dusty plastic fern sat in the far corner.

Gigi hoisted herself up on the sink and swung her legs. Denali followed suit and sat next to her on the counter. She rested her head against the wall and pulled out the pen, taking a long draw.

“So it’s that kind of bathroom break, huh?”

Denali exhaled a thick cloud. “Yep.” She held out the pen as an offer to Gigi.

“Thanks,” Gigi said, accepting it. She took a draw and held it before she spoke. “You’re usually clean on your shifts, right?” White smoke escaped her lips as she spoke, making the words sound thick and distorted.

Denali nodded, taking the pen back.

“Any reason you’re smoking tonight, then?”

“Just need to slow down my thoughts.” She took another hit, listening to the viscous crackle as she pulled the air in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gigi’s face was completely serious, and Denali had a rush of guilt for making her think something was wrong.

“No, it’s nothing bad.” She smiled. “I promise.”

Gigi smiled back. “If you decide you need to talk about something, you know where to find me.”

Denali blew her a kiss and took one last hit before she put the pen away. She pulled herself away from the wall to get up and Gigi followed suit, stopping in front of the mirror to pick a hair off her outfit before they walked out of their odd little sanctuary. Gigi took Denali’s hand and swung it gently back and forth as they followed the trail of purple light down the hallway. 


	4. If U Seek Denali

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy friday! warning you now that this chapter is veryy nsfw LOL. enjoy and tell me what you think <3

The men were Denali’s least favorite part of her job. She was reminded of this as a man tried to stroke her leg while she danced, an action that was not only illegal but criminally straight. Annoyed, she walked to the other side of the platform and tried to get back into the zone. Thank god she was high, because all it took was one deep breath for her body to melt back into dancing again.

In a way, men were the only reason Denali could handle her job at all, because she didn’t care about their attraction to her. If her audience were a hundred Rosés, or any beautiful woman for that matter, she’d be a goner. Exotic dance would take on a whole new meaning. As long as the main patrons remained dirty men, though, she could swing and grind and feel herself up as much as she wanted without it seeming “real” to her. 

So naturally, when she glanced at the bar and saw Rosé watching her, things got a whole lot realer.

They only made eye contact for a moment before Rosé turned to speak to a customer, but instantly Denali’s breath caught in her throat. Why was she bartending tonight? Now Rosé’s gaze was seared into her brain, and she started to feel a warmth rising in her stomach as she kept dancing. The world felt very far away. _Don’t lose focus._

At the bar, Rosé immediately wished Denali hadn’t seen her staring. It was a coincidence she was out of her office at all -- just minutes after she had decided she was better off permanently ignoring her crush, Jan had come into her office to inform her of a bachelor party group, an occurrence that would require extra hands, eyes, and ears at the bar. Like any good professional, she set aside her personal issues to help out. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

When she got to the bar, she had to confront the blessing and the curse that was Denali in a sparkly red dress. In every moment not occupied by a drink order, Rosé’s eyes seemed to wander back to the dancer. She looked so pretty onstage, bathed in the club lights, all of her movements underscored by an effortless sex appeal. And every time she smiled or winked in the direction of the men at her feet, Rosé felt a pang of jealousy. She longed to be the one to capture Denali’s attention. Rosé noticed she had been clenching her fists and abruptly stuffed them into the pockets of her jeans. 

She watched as Denali’s hands grazed her body, starting at her thighs, then her stomach, up over her breasts and into her hair. _Fuck._ That was also the moment that Denali decided to look her dead in the eyes.

Rosé’s heart stopped, and she barely processed the way Denali’s face froze. Panicking, she diverted her attention to the middle-aged man who had just sat down in front of her.

“What can I get for you, sir?” This was already so much less interesting than watching Denali.

“Guinness, thanks.” 

Rosé grabbed a glass and shoved it under the tap, wondering how soon she could look back at the stage without it being weird. She passed the man his beer and stared at the counter for a moment before she let her eyes go where they wanted.

Looking up, she saw Denali sinking slowly into a middle split just like she had at her audition. The hem of her dress tugging up at her hips was almost too much to handle. She was just about to tell Jan she had to go back to her office when Denali hit the deepest part of her split, her hands outstretched in front of her, and looked straight up at Rosé. The fire behind her eyes said it was no accident this time. 

Rosé watched, her stomach in knots, not wanting to miss anything. They were wrapped in each other’s orbit once again. Yet this time, it was Denali who was challenging Rosé: _Don’t look away._

So she didn’t. She watched as Denali crawled on all fours, arching her back, taking a crumpled bill between her teeth with hazy half-shut eyes. She got up gracefully, whipping her hair back, her hands running wild. Her skirt had ridden up to reveal a red thong. Rosé thought she might pass out.

Denali was letting go like she’d never seen. As turned on as Rosé was, something began to disturb her: What if she was on narcotics, or ecstasy, or something? Her gaze was unfocused, and her movements were slow and sexual. The thought alone fucked with Rosé so deeply that, without thinking, she found herself pacing to the other side of the bar. She couldn’t tell if she was overreacting -- after all, she probably wouldn’t bat an eye at any other dancer seeming a bit more into their dance than usual. It was because it was Denali, and because Denali’s passion felt personal to her. Should she reach out to make sure the girl was okay? Was that just an excuse to talk to her again? _No, I’m just concerned for someone I care about._

 _Why do I care about her, anyway?_ Rosé knew the answer. _Shut up,_ she chastised herself. 

When she walked back to her spot at the bar, there was another girl onstage where Denali had been. Why would she vanish like that? Between Denali’s work ethic and the way she had just been engaging Rosé, her disappearance was too unusual to ignore. Rosé tapped Jan on the shoulder, letting her know she was leaving for a minute, and headed for the dressing rooms in search of Denali. 

When she got there, there was no Denali in sight. _She might have moved to the private rooms._ Rosé couldn’t exactly peek into every curtained booth, so she decided to look elsewhere first. The dressing room bathrooms were already out of the question, but she might have some luck checking the employee bathroom.

Rosé’s heels clicked against the hallway floor as she walked. When she reached the bathroom and noticed warm light coming from the cracked-open door, she realized she hadn’t planned what she wanted to say. _Are you on drugs?_ Too forward. _How are you?_ Totally out of left field.

Before she could come up with something, the door swung open to Denali on the other side. Both women stopped in their tracks.

Rosé spoke first. “Hello again.” Yeah, that wasn’t what she wanted to say.

“Hi.” Denali paused, her heart racing. “Do you need something?”

Rosé took a deep breath. Her face was serious. “I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. But in the interest of your safety… are you sober right now?”

Denali froze, trying to figure out if she was visibly baked. “I am, yes. Yeah,” she said unconvincingly, and immediately knew it didn’t work. “Nope. I’m just a little stoned.” She cringed, realizing that confession had great potential for consequences.

Surprisingly, Rosé looked relieved instead of upset. “Oh, thank god. I thought you were on molly or something.” Denali giggled a little, clearly still a little bit high, and it made Rosé laugh. 

“So just weed? I didn’t take you for a stoner,” Rosé said, relaxing now that she knew her fears were unfounded.

Denali rolled her eyes.“Oh, great, you didn’t think I could possibly be a stoner but didn’t hesitate to try and bust me for molly, huh?”

“Bust you?! I was worried for your safety, doll, but I guess you just see me as the bad cop,” Rosé said, biting her tongue between her teeth in a teasing smile.

“Aw, so sweet to know you have my best interests at heart.” Denali said jokingly, but her eyes gave away that she meant it. “Why did you think I was on molly, anyway?”

Rosé remembered their staredown, Denali’s taunting dance, her own dirty thoughts. She was suddenly aware of how dry her throat was. “Just the way you were looking at me, I guess.”

Denali straightened up, feeling a little bold. “Hmm… How exactly was I looking at you?” she asked, her head cocked slightly.

 _Is she testing me right now?_ Rosé could not read this woman if her life depended on it, but she was beginning to realize that there was no way Denali couldn’t have known what she was doing. And if Denali wanted an answer, then she was going to get an answer. 

“Like you wanted to fuck me.”

Denali felt that familiar tingle in her belly. “I wonder why I looked like that,” she said faintly, her breathing shallow. She shifted forward slightly, looking up at Rosé. At this point it couldn’t have been any more obvious.

Rosé took a small step towards the door, the space between them growing smaller. “I wonder, too.”

“Maybe it’s because…”

Rosé closed the distance, their lips barely touching. “Because what?”

Denali’s voice was just a whisper. “Because I want to fuck you.”

Rosé threw open the door and whisked Denali inside. She gripped the younger woman’s hips tightly and hoisted her onto the counter, a moan escaping Denali’s lips when she hit the cold surface. Denali’s hands found the flaps of Rosé’s jacket, and she pulled Rosé in forcefully so their faces almost touched. “Do you want to fuck me?” she said, panting.

“You have no idea what I want to do to you.” Rosé said in a low voice. She kept their eyes locked as her fingers grazed over Denali’s ear and down her neck. Slowly, she leaned in and bit Denali’s bottom lip. Denali pressed their lips together impatiently, her hands exploring Rose’s body as they kissed, running around her waist, her ass, her neck. But just as she got worked up, the brunette pulled back suddenly.

Rosé grinned wickedly, taking her time to admire the hot panting mess in front of her. She put her hands on her hips and walked to the exit. “Where are you going…” Denali started to whine before she pulled a set of keys from her jacket and locked the door. “Oh.”

“So needy, my love,” Rosé teased as she walked back.

Leaning against the counter between Denali’s legs, she ran her hands slowly up the girl’s thighs, pushing up the flimsy dress so it bunched around her waist. Her fingers found the straps of Denali’s thong and she tugged it upward, teasing her. Denali jerked her hips involuntarily and bit her lip to hold back a moan.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Rosé was getting off on watching her squirm. Denali nodded, lust burning in her eyes. She lifted her hips forward so Rosé could take off her panties, and soon felt cold air where the thin fabric had been.

Rosé tossed the thong on the counter and lifted a hand to Denali’s mouth, pressing her thumb against the girl’s lips. Denali planted a wet kiss on Rosé’s thumb before licking it slowly. 

“Good, baby, you’re doing so good,” Rosé purred. She added another finger and began to softly fuck her mouth. Just the sight of Denali horny, flushed, and sweaty, obediently sucking on Rosé’s fingers, was enough for a lifetime of fantasies, but Rosé hadn’t even gotten to the fun part. When her fingers were wet enough, she pulled them from Denali’s mouth and traced down her neck, leaving a little wet trail around her tits. Clearly not wanting to wait, Denali sat up and pulled her dress over her head in one fluid motion. 

Rosé looked at Denali, now completely naked except for a pair of stilettos, and was once again impressed with the younger girl’s fearlessness.

“You’re beautiful,” Rosé said without thinking.

Denali blushed. “ _You’re_ beautiful.” It was true. Rosé took her breath away.

Rosé couldn’t figure out what made them so willing to jump into full intimacy. She felt like she had known Denali for years -- they certainly weren’t hooking up like strangers. It scared the shit out of her.

“Are you gonna join me?” Denali asked, snapping her out of her trance. Rosé obliged, slipping out of her jacket and pulling her t-shirt off, revealing a few small arm tattoos. Denali felt her breath quicken as she watched Rosé strip down to her black bra and panties. She wanted to kiss every inch of Rosé’s beautiful toned body, tease her, make her feel good, but something inside her knew the brunette wouldn’t allow that until she’d already had her way with Denali. The thought made her knees weak.

As soon as Rosé’s clothes were off, she grabbed Denali’s waist and firmly pulled her to the edge of the counter. Denali let out a small gasp, gripping the edge. Rosé slid her hands up, cupping Denali’s breasts, and let her mouth follow, leaving love bites all over her chest. She tweaked Denali’s nipple teasingly and watched her moan at the jolt of pleasure, desperately grinding her hips into the air.

“Tell me what you want me to do, baby,” Rosé said to the girl bucking at her touch.

“Fuck me.”

“What do you say?”

“Please fuck me!”

Rosé slid her hand up and rested it firmly below her jaw, holding her to the wall without hurting her, and placed another hand between her legs. Denali almost collapsed from the ecstasy of their contact. 

“You’re so fucking wet for me.”

“All for you,” Denali panted, grinning wickedly. Rosé rubbed circles around her clit, speeding up as Denali grinded against her touch. She slipped a finger in Denali’s pussy, then two, then three, curling them slightly as she fucked her.

“Spread your legs, pretty girl,” Rosé ordered, and Denali obeyed, her legs shaking as she pulled them up onto the counter. Rosé gripped Denali’s ass with both hands and ran her tongue over her slit, sending a jolt of electricity through Denali’s whole body. She gasped, tipping her head back as Rosé ate her out, trying not to moan so loudly the whole club would know. It was a good thing no one used this bathroom.

“Fuck, Rosé, right there.” Denali’s legs ached, but it made the sex feel even better. 

Rosé looked up at Denali, taking in the view of her pretty face contorted with pleasure, her hair spilling over her tits, her stomach flexing uncontrollably. She could get used to this.

“Tell me when you’re close.” 

“I’m close!” Denali barely got the words out. She tightened her death-grip on the counter as Rosé’s tongue worked magic. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Rosé licked her through her orgasm, feeling Denali’s hips jerk underneath her. She stood up and gave Denali’s thighs a small squeeze. Denali tried to sit upright to match Rosé but lost her balance and fell back, making both women giggle at her exhausted muscles. 

Rosé leaned in gently so she wouldn’t have to move. “How was that, baby?”

“Amazing,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around Rosé’s waist. The sex had been so intense, but after it peaked, Denali felt bathed in a warm glow. She traced small circles on Rosé’s back, sending chills down the brunette’s spine when her fingers fumbled around her bra. Denali was clearly asking for more.

“Are we really gonna do this?” Rosé asked, aroused but increasingly worried about the time they were spending away from their jobs.

“You shouldn’t have started something you can’t finish,” Denali replied with a smirk. “ _My_ job’s not strictly on the clock, so it’s my choice if I want to dip out. Are you saying you have something better to do?” She punctuated her sentence by popping open Rosé’s bra clasp, looking up at her innocently.

Rosé shivered at the air on her back. She took a moment to weigh the situation: In a club with nearly a hundred girls working any given night, the two of them probably wouldn’t be missed for a little while longer. She wasn’t thrilled at the idea of letting Jan down, but she had a feeling she’d end up telling her the whole story eventually. 

“I don’t know, it’s a tough decision,” Rosé deadpanned. “Do I keep fucking the hottest woman I’ve ever seen, or do I go back to the bar to serve alcohol to bitchy frat boys?”

Denali shrugged innocently, not showing how Rosé’s compliment made her heart skip a beat. Her fingers toyed at the loose straps of Rosé’s bra. “Your call.” 

Rosé didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned in to meet Denali’s lips, kissing her deeply. Denali could taste herself on Rosé’s tongue and it drove her wild. Pulling the bra all the way off, she glided her hands over Rosé’s supple breasts, tugging at her nipples just hard enough to make her gasp.

“Is this okay?” Denali said, one hand moving down over Rosé’s stomach.

“Mhm,” she murmured, her lips grazing Denali’s neck as the girl slipped a hand in her panties. Denali pulled one of Rosé’s thighs onto the counter, spreading her legs out above her own, and pushed her palm into the brunette’s clit as she finger-fucked her. She was encouraged by the hot breath on her neck as Rosé gave her haphazard love bites that would certainly bloom dark red the next morning.

They were one odd tangle of perfume, sweat, and cum. Denali whispered teasingly into Rosé’s ear, not paying attention to what came out of her mouth as long as it got a rise out of the brunette. Sure enough, she felt Rosé getting more desperate at her words, recklessly digging her nails into Denali’s ass and grinding into her hand. They found each others’ lips, panting, and kissed hungrily through Rosé’s orgasm. 

The two women stayed as they were for a moment, slumped against the wall, wrapped in each others’ warmth. Pulling back reluctantly, Rosé stroked Denali’s arm.

“I hope this isn’t the last time we do that.” It was out of character for Rosé to admit, but she would have been lying if she tried to feign indifference. 

Denali bit back a smile. “Then we’re on the same page.”

“Good.” Rosé would have loved for this to sound nonchalant and dominant, but she just sounded relieved.

Denali sat up to put on her dress, and Rosé took it as a cue to put her own clothes back on. She slipped into her pants and pulled her bra over her arms. “Could you help me with this?” she said, turning around so Denali could reach her back.

Denali nodded, hooking the bra gently, her fingers lingering on Rosé’s skin. Impulsively, she decided to say something. 

“I just… I want to get to know you, you know?” She wasn’t sure if this would mess with their dynamic, but she had to be candid. “This was really good, and you’re a really cool person.” 

“Of course,” said Rosé, mildly stunned. _There could be a future here,_ she realized. Trying not to become a giddy mess, she paused a moment before turning back around. “Can I take you on a date?”

Denali grinned. “You can take me on a date, Rosie.” 

Rosé smiled at the nickname and picked up the last of her clothes. “This weekend?” _Only three days._

“I’m free Saturday night, can you wait that long?” Denali teased.

“You know what they say, good things come to those who wait,” Rosé said, pulling her head through her shirt. “And in the meantime, you know where to find me.”

“Hmm, cooped up in your office whenever I’m around?”

Damn, so Denali had been paying attention. Rosé laughed sheepishly. “I guess I don’t need to do that now that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Denali’s mouth dropped open. “You were afraid of this?” She quickly followed up with, “Wait, are you still?”

“Absolutely not!” Rosé folded her arms defensively, smiling. “I was just afraid of being distracted by you.” 

Denali rolled her eyes, but she knew it was a compliment. 

“...And I’m definitely still going to be distracted, but now I have a taste of why it’s worth it.”

“Okay, we get it, I’m super hot.” Denali said, prying Rosé’s arms apart to tug on her fingers. “Anyway, I thought you didn’t like me one bit.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, when you auditioned me I thought you weren’t into it at all. At least until we talked in your office today, and then I was like, might as well go for it.”

This was met with a dumbfounded laugh from Rosé, who was processing how much time they wasted. “Well now you know, the problem was I was _too_ into it. And I thought you were straight, too.”

Denali looked horrified, frantically gesturing a hand across her throat that screamed _no way!_ Rosé guffawed, gripping Denali’s wrists as they laughed uncontrollably. She wished they could stay in this room forever, but Jan had surely noticed by now that she’d been away for almost half an hour. At the very least, she had a date to look forward to.

Rosé sighed, facing reality. “Alright, who leaves first and who hangs around awkwardly for a few minutes?”

“I can hang around,” Denali said, a tinge of reluctance in her voice. “I’ll see you out there.”

Rosé couldn’t think of anything to say, so she just gave Denali one last smile and walked to the door. It wasn’t perfect, but she took comfort in knowing there would potentially be a lot more Denali in her future.

Denali watched her give a silly little wave as she left. When the door shut, she closed her eyes. 

Before today, Rosé’s role in Denali’s life was the untouchable professional with the penetrating gaze. She was someone Denali was in awe of, whip smart and beautiful and elusive. But the whirlwind of today’s events was giving rise to something even more special. Rosé was kind and easy to connect with, her humor meshed well with Denali’s, and holy shit, she was sexy. Their chemistry was insane. Denali groaned out loud, both excited and nauseated at the idea of liking someone as much as she liked Rosé. 

It felt like a lifetime before a few minutes had passed. She left the bathroom, walking down the hall for the second time that night. Just as she turned to head for the poles, she heard a voice from the dressing room doorway.

“Hey girl.”

Denali turned around. “Hey Geege.”

Gigi raised an eyebrow at her. “So Rosé, huh?”


End file.
